


Rum is for fun and fucking

by Fred_ster



Series: Melancholy & Violence [1]
Category: Peaky Blinders (TV)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Gangs, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, M/M, Possession, Protective Alfie, Same-Sex Marriage, The Garrison Pub (Peaky Blinders), Whump, protective Tommy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:40:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23736235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fred_ster/pseuds/Fred_ster
Summary: This is just a short one-shot to give you an idea of where I’m starting from. This is set at the end of season two, with just a slight change: Grace was never there ( had to say this since I just dislike her character so much) . Apart from that, everything happened the same way. Hope you enjoy the first part as others are coming.Suggestion and prompt are welcomed.XOXO
Relationships: Tommy Shelby & Alfie Solomons, Tommy Shelby/Alfie Solomons
Series: Melancholy & Violence [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1709740
Comments: 1
Kudos: 26





	Rum is for fun and fucking

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a short one-shot to give you an idea of where I’m starting from. This is set at the end of season two, with just a slight change: Grace was never there ( had to say this since I just dislike her character so much) . Apart from that, everything happened the same way. Hope you enjoy the first part as others are coming.
> 
> Suggestion and prompt are welcomed.  
> XOXO

“Are we togheter?”

“You drunk again?”

“Today, at Epsom, I told Sabini we’re back togheter, told him I was doing it for you.”

“Glad you had a heart-to-heart with the wop.”

“I was talking about business. “

“I know that.”

“But there’s more of just that.”

“Is there? And you came to this realization after. . . how many whiskey?”

Alfie gestured, swinging his hands as if he was waiting for the right number to appear in front of his eyes, not really wanting to hazard a number, leaving Thomas with the burden of the truth. The gipsy, however didn’t seem too willing to share the information, or at least, that’s what he wanted Alfie to think. He actually just lost the count after the fourth, and didn’t really want to waste time thinking about it.

“Does it matter?”

“Well, it depends. Are you going to forget about this, in the morning?”

“Are you gonna be here in the morning?”

Caught by surprise, Alfie couldn't hold his grimace, a smile that told a thousand lies, delusional dreams coming to his mind just strongly enough to picture Tommy naked on every furniture he had in the room, hands shacked by the urge of putting an end to the pain of the wait. Tommy’s face was shady, half of it enlightened by the soft brightness of the oil lamp that found its spot on a tea table, next to an old ashtray, in the corner of the room. Alfie was standing between the couch and the armchair Tommy used to spend most of his time in the house on, he was trafficking with the bar cart, pouring himself some white rum. He watched as the clear liquid went down, right on the iced rocks that were waiting in the small glass and smiled when Tommy asked the question. Alfie’s finger went on his hat, just to lower it a bit, hide the hilarity behind the darkness of a shadow, he knew Tommy could have read him anyway, lucky for him, he also knew when, despite his composure, his Shelby boy was drunk. He moved one step closer to Tommy, drinking his rum, enjoying his annoyance when he noticed there was no drink for him. Alfie scanned him up and down, took notes of the mud on his shoes, the creases on his clothes, the bloody trail on the right side of his face, the iconic dark circles around his eyes, the way his hand brought the cigarette between his lip, faster than it usually did. Alfie, sighed. That son of a bitch probably had one of those days, you just want crawl in bed and allow yourself to stop suck up the pain, but still, he was there, tension in his shoulder keeping him upright, just like when he rode his horse; the line of his jaw creating a nameless shape that used to haunt Alfie’s most perverted dreams. He made some more steps towards Tommy, stopping when he found himself face to face with the smaller man, Tommy’s eyes made a fast shift, almost digging a hole into Alfie’s face when he looked at him. It was Alfie that broke the silence, his voice coming out of his damp lips like a cursing, in a whisper that made Tommy bone feel dangerously soft. The cigarettee, now finished left to rot on the carpet. 

“Rum is for fun and fucking, innit?”

Tommy didn’t make a move, determined to not give any kind of satisfaction to the Jew standing in front of him, he just took a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and lighted another one after bringing it in his mouth. The familiar smell hit Alfie’s face while the smoke cloud made Tommy’s figure blurred, the brightness of his eyes coming out of it like a lighthouse would in a foggy night and Alfie ship didn’t seem to be able to do nothing, but follow it. He took a deep breath, smiled in a noisy way that made Thomas wonder what was going to happen, not something he was really used to. One second after, Alfie’s right hand threw the glass shredding against an unknown object, his eyes didn’t move from the subject of his interest; his left hand closed around Tommy's jaw, pushing the man against the wall behind him, the cigarette in his mouth fell into the carpet before being crushed by Alfie’s foot, when he went right on Tommy.

“Are you ever afraid, Thomas?”

“Of you?”

Tommy asked, as he pushed his face up, not able to get off Alfie’s strong hold. His eyes looking for answers to question he didn’t pose; words he wasn’t sure wanted he to hear. Alfie didn’t flinch, didn’t move a single muscle, God, he didn’t even know what he was really doing. What was he looking for? How deep did he wanted to dig in Tommy’s heart? Did he want the body under the clothes? Or the man behind the mask?

Not sure of the answer, Alfie moved Tommy like a doll, turning him so that Tommy’s face would hit the wall, cheek mashed on it, his back being the closest thing to Alfie’s heart. While keeping Tommy on that position with one hand, Alfie used the other to unbutton his pants and lower them while whispering things on the other man’s hear. He knew that somehow, Tommy could have been gone by then, and the urge to know why was he still there forbid him to stop, some part of him knew, he really just wanted to know if it was really for the fun and fucking, or it has something to do with the person standing behind him, Alfie being that person. He just kept doing what he wanted to, and when the lower part of Tommy’s body was full exposed, with no sign of resistance from him, Alfie just gave up. With frustration growing inside him, he just sighed and put Tommy back into his previous position, making the back of his head collide against the wall.

“What? Already tired of me?”

“You sick bastard. You’re not even gonna fight this, are you?”

“Do you want me to fight, Alfie? Is that it? You like it rough?“

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

With that said, Alfie just let Tommy go before backing up and look at the man with bewilderment and what could almost look like fear. Did Tommy just want that fuck or was he only enjoying messing with Alfie’s head?

Not wanting to look like a scared kitten, Alfie just went looking for his coat and glasses turning his back on a half-naked Thomas, who just stood there like nothing happened, almost amused by the Jew’s reaction. Truth was, none in that room knew what had just happened, none of them knew what they were doing, there was just a shared feeling floating above their heads, the painful urge to let the other one know something that would make him stay right in that room, there was just the obvious fact that they won a war but weren’t outside, celebrating with their people, hanging over their heads. Tommy never flinched when it came to shot a man or blow up a house, but in that moment, he just couldn’t order his legs to move. He stood there, naked, watching as Alfie grabbed his stuff. The older man took almost five minutes to gather his things, and when he was done, he just headed for the door, not giving a Tommy the slightest look, just like he would do as a sign of respect for a woman. And that was perhaps what made Tommy decide to move in front of the door , Alfie still determined to not look at him, nor his face, kept his gaze on the wood of the door, staring at it with rage growing inside his Jewish soul.

“Get away, Thomas. “

But Tommy didn’t get away. Instead he stared at Alfie’s for long seconds, waiting to look in his eyes, waiting for him to show what he really wanted. They just stood there, unmoving, shrouded by a feeling they just couldn’t give a name to, that seemed to keep them there, unable to leave the other.

“Thomas. “

Alfie said, once again, with no results. He sighed, gave in and move his head so that he could finally look at the damn devil in front of him. He just didn’t know what sick game that was, he didn’t know why he put himself in that fucking situation. God, he didn’t even care about the victory, didn’t care about the money or the people, it was like that moment just made everything else seem irrelevant and ridiculously small, fake and useless.

“Oh, fuck off. “

He just spat out before throwing his hat away and start stripping off. And when Alfie’s lip touched with Tommy’s in a kiss the spoke the thousand words they just weren’t brave enough to say, all the fucked up shit he had to go through just made sense, because all that led him to that fucking moment and even though he had had no idea until then, that was exactly what he had been waiting for, all his life.


End file.
